“And…？”
The officer leans forward, his eyes wide. He has a rough stubble on his chin, like he might’ve skipped shaving this morning. His tongue protrudes slightly from between his lips. I’m not stupid—I know exactly what he wants me to say.
I did it. I’m guilty. Take me away.
Instead, I lean back against the sofa. “That’s it. That’s everything I know.”
Disappointment washes over the detective’s face. He works his jaw as he thinks over the evidence that has been found so far in this house. He’s wondering if he’s got enough to snap those cuffs on my wrists yet. He isn’t sure. If he were sure, he would have done it already.
“Hey, Connors!”
It’s the voice of another officer. We break eye contact and I look up at the top of the staircase. The other, much younger cop is standing there, his long fingers clutching the top of the banister. His unlined face is pale.
“Connors,” the younger officer says. “You gotta come up here—now. You gotta see what’s up here.” Even from the bottom of the stairs, I can see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You won’t believe it.”